I Pray
by Survivor88
Summary: Second and final chapter- Elliot finally get's what we all know he needs... [COMPLETE] R
1. I Pray

Lot's of peopl have done post-Rage fics, as we should depending on how we felt about the episode, but I wanted to try a different take on how Elliot would be during his tirade and then after the credits rolled. So here's my version. Love to get reviews.

* * *

_I can't quote the Bible  
I skipped Sunday school  
And I can't count the times I fell and broke the Golden Rule  
So I don't know if he listens  
Sometimes I wonder if he cares  
Maybe I'm just wishing  
'Cause I can't even prove he's there_

_Chourus:  
But I pray  
He'll watch over my children  
I pray  
Just to be a better man  
To find the strength to rise above  
To be there for the ones I love  
To forgive and be forgiven some sweet day  
I pray_

_Now I confess that I don't bow my head as often as I should  
Mostly just when times are bad, rarely when they're good  
And I don't hold with too much preachin'  
But I was raised up to believe  
That a man can't ever stand as tall  
As when he gets down on his knees_

_Chourus:  
But I pray  
He'll watch over my children  
I pray  
Just to be a better man  
To find the strength to rise above  
To be there for the ones I love  
To forgive and be forgiven some sweet day  
I pray_

_Chorus 2:  
So I pray  
For a word that's gone half crazy  
I pray  
For every woman child and man  
To find the strength to rise above  
To teach each other how to love  
To forgive and be forgiven some sweet day  
I pray  
I pray_

My knuckles burn, as if I had lit candles and rested my hands over them. The sting of skin to metal feel's better than what I feel inside though..

Rickett's angering, smug features burn my eyes and I slowly sit down on the bench with my face in my bloodied hands.

I feel the tears begin to pool at the bottom of my eyes, squeezing my eyes closed I let the the salty water flow down my cheeks. I'm on my knee's at this point, there's so much I'm trying so hard to understand, so much of the pieces of me I'm trying to sift through.

"God", I hear myself whisper.

"It's been awhile since we talked, huh? I guess that's my fault, like a lot of things are as of late. My faith's been disturbed and I don't know how to talk to You anymore without yelling, that's the problem..."

I trail off because this feel's strange. With a shaky sigh I lower my hands to fold them, my eyes are still closed against what I don't need to see right now.

"I pray that you watch over the little ones who are violated, who don't know or can't understand that they aren't worthless. I pray that you give strength to the afflicted, both the perps and their vics. I pray that you take care of my own kids, that you help my wife see I need them. I pray- for myself, my best friend, my colleagues..."

Tears are freefalling down the papery skin of my contorted face. I don't try to stop them anymore because I think I know where my...where my... rage comes from. My rage comes from grief, from years of distance between myself and everyone else. I've been throwing myself in to work so I don't have to be at my vacant residence. That act has pushed my sorrow inside, inward where I wallow in it without really recognizing what the emotion is.

"Oh God, I'm not him! I am not Rickett!"

Pressing the heels of my hands in to my eyes I sob. I sob because I know, intellectually, that I am not like the perverts and animals we collar everyday. Emotionally, however, I still need convincing.

I usually train my mind to tell me that shrinks are useless. Maybe I was wrong...

On unsteady feet I walk to the stairs leading to the squadroom, no on is down there, but for the captain who is in his office. The blinds are slightly drawn so I use the railing to help me down the staircase.

At my desk I sit down and pick up the phone, my fingertip punches each numbered button until I put it to my ear and wait for someone to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi Doc."

"Elliot, what's up?" he can hear the defeat in my tone.

"Um, I need to make an appointment to see you."

I can't believe I'm doing this.

"OK, tomorrow 9:00am."

"I'll be there. Thanks" I think I might be feeling a little better, but I can't really tell.

"No problem. Good Night Elliot, get some sleep."

"Yea, 'night."

We hang up and I sit back in my chair. Suddenly the searing pain in my hands really registers in me. I cautiously gaze down at them, the blood is caked and drying but still trickling.

I guess I should go to the hospital and get them cleaned up. Perhaps cleaning up my torn knuckles is the start of cleaning the rest of me...

* * *

Reviews, the good, the bad, and the constructive. Thankies 


	2. The Change

_One hand  
Reaches out  
And pulls a lost soul from harm  
While a thousand more go unspoken for  
They say what good have you done  
By saving just this one  
It's like whispering a prayer  
In the fury of a storm _

And I hear them saying you'll never change things  
And no matter what you do it's still the same thing  
But it's not the world that I am changing  
I do this so this world will know  
That it will not change me

This heart  
Still believes  
The love and mercy still exist  
While all the hatred rage and so many say  
That love is all but pointless in madness such as this  
It's like trying to stop a fire  
With the moisture from a kiss

And I hear them saying you'll never change things  
And no matter what you do it's still the same thing  
But it's not the world that I am changing  
I do this so this world will know  
That it will not change me

As long as one heart still holds on  
Then hope is never really gone

I hear them saying you'll never change things  
And no matter what you do it's still the same thing  
But it's not the world that I am changing  
I do this so this world we know  
Never changes me

What I do is so  
This world will know  
That it will not change me

In front of me is a burgundy wooden door and a gold nameplate stares me in the face.

I think Huang meant his office at the Bureau, I hope he did cause I sure as hell don't want anyone at the precinct to know about this.

The clock chimes 9:00, along with my nervous heartbeat. My sweaty palms grip the doorknob while my other hand makes a fist and knocks on the door.

"Come on in Elliot."

I push the door open and enter the office.

"Morning Doc", I shut the door and stand awkwardly awaiting his next move.

"Take a seat and we'll get started", Huang motioned to the couch or chairs and took out his notepad and a pen. Oh. Great.

Deciding I'd be as close to comfortable as I could get here I opted for the couch.

Huang looks up at me to begin, I don't know where to start though so we lapse in to silence.

The doc's imploring dark eyes gaze at my blue ones. He's trying to read my expression or maybe he's looking for somewhere to start.

"Elliot it's OK if you're not ready to talk. Knowing that you need to is a good sign in itself."

"I just... all these years, all the perps and every vic..."

My hands make fists on my knees and I feel my jaw tense to the point of pain.

"I know about Rickett. And that you two had a very pulsating encounter, for a second time."

"Rage. That's what he talked about. All of the rage. Control too. That I... I'm just like hi-im, or... or...worse", inside my trachea constricts until my mouth runs dry.

"How was your life before the seperation? How did you feel inside?"

The shrinking of my head has officially begun...

"It was good. I had a great wife and four beautiful kids. Home was my safe place, it was where I could protect myself and my family from the demons of the city. I could push the images of horror from my mind when I was with my kids... I was still angry and I still wanted to tear the sons-of-bitches apart who dared to harm a child or some woman who didn't ever ask to be violated like that."

Looking down at my palms my face grows warm.

"Then what happened? When did things begin changing?"

"I don't know really. Kathy stopped talking to me altogether and began to stay up to wait for me where we would then engage in a screaming match. She was angry that I wouldn't talk to her and that I wasn't ever home much. My own wife accused me of abandonment. Maybe that's when the madness took a chunk out of me. When Kathy packed up our once happy family and left me."

In super slow motion the tears again threaten to spill over my walls. Instead of looking at Huang I focus on gulping back the sobs and fighting the tightness of my lungs.

"Is that when you started to feel overwhelmed?" he wonders.

I bob my head.

"I was so pissed off and sad and scared when Kathy left. It made every case with a kid that much more difficult because I couldn't know if they were definitely all right cause I wasn't there makin sure."

Huang scribbles on his paper for a minute or two before looking up at me.

"Have you ever found an outlet? And I mean other than tearing your hands apart?"

Traveling to my bandaged knuckles I shake my head this time. No. I had always exerted my anger on the lowlifes.

"Maybe what you're interpreting as rage is more hurt and sadness. Could that be a proper assumption to make?"

"Sure, I guess... yea."

"I think what you need to do- first do you want advice from me?" he's cautious.

"Isn't that why I'm here?" my sarcasm is in full swing.

"You need to find an outlet, be it writing, jogging, or simply pounding a pillow before bed. Maybe get a boxing kit to really exert those bad feelings."

On Huangs desk the clock ticks onto 10:00. Wow it's been an hour already?

"Now when do you want another appointment Elliot?" he flips closed my "file" and takes out his book. I shrug, "Uh Friday, morning's good."

"Same time on Friday. Oh and Elliot before you go, know that you've got great friends who'll be there and back you whenever you need it."

"Yea, thanks doc."

Closing the door behind me I feel slightly less weighted...

FINISHED!


End file.
